


Oops

by ApostateRevolutionary



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drama, M/M, Romance, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 01:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3791023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApostateRevolutionary/pseuds/ApostateRevolutionary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders overhears a conversation between Hawke and Fenris about mages, as well as an admission from the rogue that he did not expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oops

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from anon: rogue M!Hawke is asked about why he's pro mage by Fenris, and in the middle of his rant to the elf about it, Anders overhears him admit he loves Anders. Anders listens in and tries to figure out a way to show he loves Hawke back?(set before they got together in act 2?)

"You really want to do this now?”

That was Hawke’s voice. Anders paused, trying to pretend his heart hadn’t fluttered at the sound. He’d been heading out to buy some more parchment while the clinic was quiet, the last of his having been used up on drafts of his manifesto, but now he found himself frozen at the door.

“I do. Now that your ‘friends’ aren’t around to interrupt.” That was Fenris.

Anders stifled a groan, but his curiosity was piqued. Slowly, he crept closer to the door, carefully sliding it open just enough to see what was going on. The pair was standing only a short distance away from the clinic, clearly having some sort of discussion. Neither looked happy with whatever the topic was.

“Should I start with the part where my father was a mage, free of the Circle, and yet he turned out okay? Or how about that my sister is also a mage, and currently a prisoner in the Gallows?” Hawke said, crossing his arms.

“That explains why you want her free, not why you want them all free to succumb to demons and blood magic.” Fenris countered.

They were talking about mages. Anders’ heart fluttered again. A thousand arguments came to mind, but he fought the urge to barge in on their conversation and start explaining why mages deserved freedom. Fenris never listened, and Anders had to admit he was curious what Hawke would say without him or Merrill around. The healer had always wondered if maybe Hawke just indulged him to be nice, or because he didn’t want to argue about it. It wasn’t necessarily that he doubted Hawke; Anders had just always found it hard to believe any non-mage would care as much as he did. And maybe part of him hoped that it was a ruse, that Hawke wasn’t as perfect as he seemed, and that maybe he could stop getting butterflies every time the rogue was around if it turned out he wasn’t as passionate about Anders’ cause as he seemed to be.

Hawke let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, you really want to know?”

Fenris just stood there, waiting. Anders did the same.

“Yes, I think all mages should be free. People, no matter how powerful or dangerous, don’t deserve to be held prisoner for an accident of birth. No one deserves to be judged guilty before they’ve even committed a crime. The Templars say they lock mages away to keep people safe, yet the mages are completely defenseless against whatever they wish to do to them. And for all the dangers of magic, there’s so much good it can do. Look at Anders. He runs a free clinic for people who wouldn’t be able to get help anywhere else, something he couldn’t do nearly as well if he weren’t a mage. And yet the Chantry would see him made Tranquil, or executed because he’s an apostate, even though he’s using his gifts to help more people than they ever try to. He does far more good here than he would in a blasted Circle.” Hawke’s voice had risen by the end of his rant.

 _He’s bringing me into this? He thinks I do that much good?_ Anders was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing.

“You’re bringing the abomination into this?” Fenris’ voice was raised now, too.

“Don’t call him that!” Hawke cried, a little too angrily.

“It’s what he is! No amount of ‘good deeds’ will change that. You saw what he nearly did to that mage girl.” The elf yelled back.

Anders felt a pang of guilt at the mention of Ella. Fenris wasn’t wrong there. The mage knew he shouldn’t be listening, that he should turn away now, but his legs were rooted to the spot.

“He is not.” The rogue growled, the words almost a threat.

“Why do you always defend him?!” Fenris had stepped closer to Hawke now, but the larger man wasn’t backing down.

“Because he deserves better than that! Because he works harder to help people and make things better than any of us! Because he actually believes the world can change, and that it’s worth trying! Because he’s one of the damn few good things in this blasted city and no one bloody sees it!” Hawke shouted back, fists curled at his sides.

“And you think all that excuses what he is, what he’s done?! Why do you care?!” The elf snarled.

“Because I love him!”

Those four words echoed slightly as the three men stood in silence, all too stunned to think. Fenris clearly hadn’t expected such a confession. The elf relaxed his stance, staring in shock. Hawke himself looked as though it was the first time he’d realized the truth of what he’d just shouted for all of Darktown to hear. He just stared back at Fenris, equally speechless.

And then there was Anders, hiding behind the slightly open door of his clinic, one hand over his mouth, trying very, very hard to process what he’d just heard. The part of his brain that formed coherent thoughts had apparently decided to stop working entirely. The mage had to lean back against the wall beside the clinic door to keep his knees from buckling.

Had he really just heard that? Anders felt a blush creeping onto his cheeks, his heart racing from excitement. Automatic thoughts of ‘distraction!’ and ‘you’ll only hurt him’ ran through his mind, warnings from both Justice and himself, but they were overpowered by the frustratingly potent happiness slowly working its way through him.

“I-I have to go.” Hawke sputtered, bringing Anders’ attention back to the real world.

“…That’s probably best.” The elf responded with just as much awkwardness.

The pair then turned away from each other, nearly running in whichever direction took them away from where that admission had just happened. Anders’ eyes were on the rogue as he left, lingering too long on parts he shouldn’t be looking at. Once Hawke was out of sight, the healer let himself slid down the wall, not even caring that he was now sitting on the filthy floor of his clinic.

 _He loves me back…_ He thought, finally able to string together some sort of coherent sentence in his mind. Anders had known he loved Hawke for far too long. The attraction was almost immediate when they’d first met, and the longer he knew the man, the more he wanted him. The rogue was far too charming, far too attractive, and he damn well knew it. Anders had lost count of how many times he found his mind wandering to ideas of teeth grazing against skin, hands fisted in sheets, toes curling and back arching, both panting as he… That’s usually when he was able to stop it.

But that wasn’t the problem. Had it just been a sexual thing, they could’ve had their fling and moved on. That would’ve been easy. Yet equally as often, he imagined lips meeting, strong arms encircling him, whispered comforts, warmth next to him as he slept… Those thoughts were harder to fight. Anders ached for such things, even though he knew it could only end in disaster, and he’d tried so hard to push them back, to bury them deep within himself where they could never be found like he had for so many years in the Circle. He’d even warned Hawke, told him not to pursue this, tried to protect him, yet it seemed the rogue had fallen for him anyway.

And now, here he was, trying to think of how exactly he could show Hawke that he loved him back. The mage didn’t exactly have experience in this area, after all. He knew how relationships worked in the Circle, though they seldom involved romantic feelings, and exactly how to start them. Somehow, he doubted asking Hawke to join him in the deserted corner of a dusty library, and then ravishing him if he said yes was going to work.

 _This is a distraction._ That thought wasn’t his, Anders knew that, so he ignored it, continuing to focus on how he could go about this. He thought briefly of asking one of their friends, but the few who actually put up with him would be the opposite of helpful. The mage shook his head, letting out a small groan.

Then the healer had an idea. Tonight was the night of the group’s weekly game of Wicked Grace at the Hanged Man. Anders rarely attended, always too many important things to do, but perhaps it might be worth dropping by this time. As he contemplated how exactly he could make a move, guilt sunk into his stomach. This wasn’t fair to Hawke. Anders knew it could only end poorly, knew that he’d break his heart, and yet… He couldn’t fight it anymore. He’d spent the last three years fighting it, enduring so many nights of imagining the possibilities in lieu of sleep. Now that he knew Hawke felt the same, there was nothing left in him to resist.

And thus the mage decided he would attend, and see what happened. Maybe he’d lose his nerve once he saw Hawke, or maybe he wouldn’t get a chance, or maybe he wouldn’t even have to make a move at all. There were too many unknowns, but, consequences be damned, he had to at least try.

* * *

As Anders approached the Hanged Man, he felt his pulse quicken. He knew it was foolish to be nervous; after all, this was just a game of Wicked Grace.

Except it wasn’t. In his mind, the mage ran through all the possible ways he might confess his feelings to Hawke, fighting against the reminder that he couldn’t offer a normal life and cries of ‘distraction!’. Mentally warring with either himself or the spirit was difficult enough, and both at once was just exhausting. Anders’ thoughts were interrupted as he reached the door and, taking a steadying breath, he entered the crowded bar.

Beyond the usual drunks and off-duty workers, near the back, he spotted Hawke almost immediately. The rogue was facing away, telling some story to Varric, who was sitting on the table and laughing wholeheartedly. No one else had arrived yet. The healer couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. Anders approached, trying desperately (and likely failing) to act natural, and Varric noticed him just as his laughter subsided.

“Blondie? What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re actually joining us for Wicked Grace!” Varric called, rather dramatically.

Hawke then turned, slightly too fast, an uncharacteristic, mild blush on his cheeks as he faced Anders. Butterflies made an appearance in the mage’s belly, and he began to regret this entire idea.

“I-I am, actually. Thought it might be good to get out for once.” Anders said casually, cursing himself for the initial stutter.

The dwarf cocked an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Last time you came, Rivaini wiped the floor with you.”

Anders shrugged, not failing to notice that Hawke had yet to join in. “Well, I never said it’d be good for my coin purse.”

Varric chuckled at that, clapping the mage on the shoulder. “Just try not to lose everything this time, Blondie. Rivaini’s smug enough as it is, and if you miss anymore meals, your ribs are going to poke right through that coat of yours.”

Anders was about to protest that last comment when Varric was approached by a rather sketchy-looking fellow who apparently needed his attention right this moment. The dwarf sighed, getting off the table, and headed to the back of the tavern to deal with that, leaving Anders alone with Hawke. The healer’s heart jumped into his throat. Andraste’s arse, why was this so hard?

“You actually came this time? Should I go outside and check for flying pigs?” Hawke asked, smirking, any signs of his initial awkwardness gone.

Anders chuckled, a bit too nervously. He had opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted as Hawke looked beyond him at something. The mage glanced over to see another coming to join them.

Fenris had a peculiar look on his face as he stopped for a moment, noticing that Anders was with Hawke, alone. Had the healer not overheard the conversation earlier, he’d have brushed it off as just Fenris being Fenris. But he knew better, and it was certainly not helping the knot of anxiety in his stomach.

Something silent passed between the elf and Hawke in that moment, and it was palpable. Fenris then resumed his walk, his usual scowl back on his face.

“Hawke.” was all he said, nodding slightly, as he sat at the table and asked the waitress for a drink.

Varric returned almost immediately after, muttering something about the ‘blasted Merchant’s Guild’. It wasn’t long before the rest of Hawke’s friends showed up, taking away any chance Anders had at talking to Hawke before the game started. Not that he likely would have, but he still mentally cursed the lost opportunity.

The rest of the evening was mostly a haze. Anders was barely paying attention to the game, distracted by the continued battle in his mind. How could he show Hawke he felt the same? Should he even bother? What was the point? He’d only hurt him. Occasionally, Justice’s disapproval joined in the melee, but the mage chose to ignore those ones. His own warnings were insistent enough.

At some point, the healer became aware that his thigh was pressing against Hawke’s. Anders felt a faint blush creep up his neck. The rogue was involved in the game, taunting Isabela (even though Anders knew he was bluffing), and didn’t seem to notice the contact. The healer tried to ignore it, to pretend that it was totally normally, and that he definitely wasn’t enjoying it far more than he should be.

The other thing he noticed was Fenris’ suspicious glances at Hawke whenever he would lean over to talk to Anders. The rogue leaned in close, too close, every time, so close that the mage could smell the hint of alcohol on his breath. Just a few more inches and… Nope, bad idea. Anders would’ve shook his head, if not just to clear it, but that would’ve been far too obvious. He tried to ignore the elf’s eyes travelling to Hawke each time, but Fenris wasn’t exactly indiscreet about it.

The game came to an end with Anders’ funds staying shockingly intact, though that could’ve been just because he had barely paying attention, folding as often as he could get away with and claiming his luck had just been terrible. Isabela was gloating, as per usual, while trying to subtlety explain the concept of cheating to Merrill. and Hawke was laughing, the alcohol making it come even easier than normal. Fenris was glaring at the table, clearly displeased with his loss, and Varric was patting the grumpy elf on the back, chuckling.

Anders was exhausted. He’d spent the entire night nursing the ball of anxiety in his stomach, and it had only grown since his arrival. The mage briefly considered trying to find a way to convince Hawke to come outside with him, to get a moment alone, but quickly abandoned the idea when his pulse quickened at the mere thought of it. Resigning himself to failure, he quietly snuck off when no one was looking.

Once outside the tavern, the healer took a deep breath, closing his eyes and leaning against the outer wall. It was even later than he’d feared, and the entire evening had been an exercise in futility.

 _Well, I suppose I tried. It’s better this way, anyways._ He thought, and he felt Justice approve of his acceptance of that fact. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know it before, but it was somehow more convincing now. It was about time he headed back to the clinic. If he was lucky, there’d be no one there and he might be able to get some real sleep tonight.

As Anders opened his eyes, he found Hawke standing right in front of him, looking at him questioningly. The healer jumped, not having heard the rogue approach.

“Heading out already, are you?” Hawke said, his mouth set in that lazy grin of his, the infuriatingly endearing one, and his eyes fogged slightly from the alcohol.

“Yes, I need to get back to the clinic. I’ve already been gone too long, and I worry about my patients. Then there’s work on my manifesto, and all that. You know how it is.” Anders found himself babbling.

The rogue looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, his expression almost sad. “You work too hard. You should relax more, take a break from time to time. It was good for you to get out tonight. I hope you come more often.”

Anders found himself transfixed, lost in Hawke’s eyes, not failing to notice the glint in them. “Y-yeah, I’ll try to.” was all he managed to say.

Hawke grinned again, and it was only now that Anders noticed just how close he was to the other man. “Good. I’d like that.”

With that, the rogue turned to leave, and something inside Anders urged him to say something, anything. This was his chance; all he had to do was take it.

“Hawke, wait, I-” The blonde stammered.

Hawke turned. “Hmm?”

“I just…” Anders swallowed, trying to gather his courage. “Wanted to say I had a good time. It was fun.”

 _Well, so much for that._ The mage thought as Hawke smiled and nodded before returning to the tavern. Anders gently knocked his head against the wall, cursing himself, before heading back to his clinic in defeat.

* * *

It had been a few days since Anders’ failure at the Hanged Man, and since then he’d tried to keep busy at the clinic to avoid dwelling on his feelings. He’d tried to forget about what he had overheard, to forget the possibility of actually having something with Hawke. He knew it was better that way. At some point, he’d end up hurting Hawke, even if he didn’t know when or how. If they got involved, it’d only be a disaster. There was no happy ending for them. The healer let these thoughts repeat in his mind, over and over, hoping at some point they’d overpower his feelings.

And yet he still couldn’t stop thinking about the man. It didn’t help that the clinic was unfortunately peaceful at the moment, and the mage had already reached a block with his manifesto earlier. So instead of work, he’d gone out and purchased some milk, despite Justice’s disapproval, and was now laying out a saucer of it in the hopes of attracting a cat. He still missed Pounce, and perhaps a feline visitor would help keep his mind away from his rogue friend.

Before the healer moved to stand, he heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Inwardly, his heart clenched, conflicting emotions warring with renewed fervour. Anders vowed to actually broach the issue this time. They were alone, and no one would interrupt. It was then and there that he’d give Hawke one final warning, tell him that it was a bad idea, and that he should run from this. And if the rogue was still interested… Well, Anders didn’t know if he’d be able to stop himself after that.

“What are you doing?” Hawke asked.

“Putting out milk. I miss having a cat around.” Anders said, standing and turning to greet the man he didn’t realize he’d finally be spending the night with after this.


End file.
